A Malfoy Marriage, or not!
by JennyFeather
Summary: Pheadra Rookwood thinks that she has hit the jack pot when she becomes enganged to Draco Malfoy. Little does she know that she has competition!DracoHermione oneshot


**Disclaimer: :** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

AN: Just a little one-shot that has been lounging in my documents for a while! I hope you enjoy and review if you are so inclined!

Phaedra turned slightly and stretched a thin arm out and through the ivory fabric. The robe was uncomfortably tight now; or rather the corset beneath it. It was strangely satisfying to know that she would be the most beautiful socialite in northern Europe tonight, even if she had to stop breathing to do it. _Witch Weekly_ had had a pole last Tuesday featuring her. A sly smile pressed her painted lips at the memory.

A large bouquet of glossy pink and gold roses had been laid on the vanity table for her while she had changed and her bride's maids were no where to be found.

As her manicured nails touched the soft petals she instantly new where they had come from; Briar's. How many times had her mother insisted on Briar's flowers for all social events? Instead of endearing, it merely added to her agitation.

This was_ her _wedding, even if it was arranged. Her mother knew perfectly well that she detested Briar's ever since the catastrophe with her fifth year ball, when her flowers had eaten her dates pocket watch. And her mother had, after sending many Howlers, ordered flowers from Briar's again, after Briar herself had personally guaranteed the sack of the employee who had made the mistake.

Phaedra suppressed the urge to take out her wand incinerate the roses as she paced to the full length mirror. It was a large, highly wrought mirror that had been in her family for generations. Phaedra could only assume that her mother had magicked it to her dressing room.

Many of the Rookwood women had looked into this on their own wedding days just as Phaedra was now, their reflections staring back at them. Some were smiling, some not, some frowning, and some (like Phaedra) staring impassively into the glass.

For the hundredth time that day she closely examined herself. Her shinning ebony hair was half way drawn behind her head into a tight bun while the rest hung in ringlets. Her slender frame was tightly restricted by her magically enhanced corset and her face wore a look of great discomfort.

In the reflection she saw the door creak open as her least favorite cousin entered, accompanied by her mother in law to be. Her mouth quickly twisted itself into a false smile. She turned gracefully, her silk wedding robes twirling in turn, and folded her hands in front of her.

She watched Narcissa smile warmly and extend a hand. Phaedra extended her own letting Narcissa slip a delicate hand to hers.

"You look lovely daughter" Narcissa said taking her other hand and resting it against her cheek "since your father's unfortunate demise, and your mother, well…" she trailed off, a smile tugging at her lips that made Phaedra sure that her mother had already gotten very drunk

"I would love to speak to you alone, if we could." At this she gave Juliana a very pointed look. Juliana's mouth hardened and lips pursed as she straightened her champagne colored robes and muttered something about checking on the house elves as she turned and swiftly walked out of the room.

"Do sit down dear" Narcissa said gesturing to the small love seat. Phaedra complied and sat up as straight as her back would allow, her very fake smile never faltering.

Narcissa sat next to her smoothing out her own sapphire robes.

"Phaedra," she began "After the untimely death of your father and my husband" she paused with a short gurgling sound in her throat. "Excuse me" she said softly.

Phaedra could tell that it was still difficult to speak of her husband's death.

"Anyway" she said "after his father's death Draco is now the head of the family."

Phaedra nodded mutely.

"And it is up to you dear to bare an heir to the Malfoy line. I feel it is my duty as your mother in law to make very sure that you know the importance of this"

"Mrs. Malfoy-"Phaedra began

"Narcissa please" the older woman said graciously

"Alright" Phaedra said in a sickeningly sweet voice "Narcissa, I would love nothing more than to bring forth an heir. Especially after the butchery the Pureblood community has seen, I know how very few of us there are left in Brittan…"

Narcissa smiled in a way that did not reach her eyes.

"Good" she said in a brisk way "well then I'll just see my way out. Have a lovely wedding day dear"

She gave Phaedra a cool kiss on the cheek and exited swiftly, shutting the door behind her.

The young witch sneered at the closed door and wiped the kiss off of her cheek. 'We'll see how much Draco's charity affords her after she's put into a home' she though bitterly.

Phaedra rose and sat near the window. Every thing was coming into play. A wicked smile spread over her face. The mudblood was out of the way, Draco was marrying _her_ in fifteen minutes, and the Dark Lord was dead, so she was sure to have more quality time with Draco. And the best part was, the press was attending the ceremony which meant that her picture would be gracing the pages of every society paper in the UK.

Ah yes, life was moving in the right direction. Nothing could spoil this day for her.

"Phaedra" a voice interrupted her thoughts.

Phaedra turned to see Juliana in the door frame, her seven bride's maids behind her.

"It's time" she said dramatically

Phaedra picked up her bouquet of roses, and sashayed out of the room.

It was a beautiful hall. She was glad now, as every one stood to look at her, that she had foregone an escort. All the more attention on _her_.

Pink and gold roses lined the rows of mahogany carved benches and Phaedra could see Draco standing at the end of the alter, a sober look on his face.

Phaedra was suppressing the well excitement that was threatening to boil over. The Malfoy family diamond was going to be put on _her_ finger. It was passed on every other generation, so Narcissa had not gotten the opportunity that was being bestowed upon Phaedra.

It was a breath taking princess cut diamond that was set on goblin wrought platinum, and it would be _hers_. Phaedra tried not to think of who could _really_ be wearing it. She suppressed the desire to shudder.That bushy-headedmudblood wearing the Malfoy diamond. It was laughable.

Phaedra had come to a stop at the alter and turned royally to face her husband to be.

"Dearly beloved" the priest was saying "we are gathered here today to witness the joining of two most prestigious families by their the union of marriage"

Phaedra smiled smugly.

"Before we begin" he said "does any one in this room know of any reason why this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony. Speak now or forever hold your peace."

There was a ringing silence that hung in the air. Phaedra's smile grew broader.

"Please face one another" the priest said grandly "do you have the rings"

The ring bearers stepped forward and extended the silk pillows.

Phaedra sucked in sharply when she saw _her_ ring. It was simply the most gorgeous thing she had ever seen in her entire life, it sparkled in the candle light as though it were alive.

"Do you-"

The priest was cut off by the heavy oak door swinging open with an almighty bang.

Every one turned in their seat to see what had caused such a disruption.

Phaedra was furious. Who would dare to disrupt _her_ wedding day! She turned angrily on the spot and felt her stomach drop.

Standing at the end of the isle was a girl who had to be close to her age. And although Phaedra had never seen her before, she knew at once who it was.

Judging by her muggle cardigan and denim trousers it had to be _her_. That mudblood who Draco had become mixed up with so long ago. Phaedra could not remember her name, not that it mattered.

The flashes of the press photographers were clicking madly.

"**I object**!" she shouted.

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